


Projection

by ellerkay



Series: Sympathetic Response [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 10:32:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4742993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellerkay/pseuds/ellerkay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of an AU series where Will Graham is a mutant with extraordinary empathy and visions. This installment is the story of when Will lost his virginity, and a realization he has at this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Projection

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Brief mentions of the death of a parent and of an animal being ill-treated.

Will was nineteen when he lost his virginity, to a girl at his college. A friend – not a close one (he still wasn’t very good at making close friends), but a friend. She was only a couple years older than him, but vastly more experienced, and she had an easy, free, joyful attitude towards sex that Will envied. He could feel it from her, sometimes, but not enough to act on it.  
  
Her name was Cindy, though she spelled it Cyndi now, “like Cyndi Lauper,” whom she loved and with whom she was thrilled to share a first name. When she found out he’d never had sex, Cyndi told him point-blank that she would be delighted to deflower him, with a mischievous smile which Will found irresistible. He even smiled back, a little. He glanced into her eyes – he had to know – but he felt no pity from her, just attraction and anticipation. So he agreed.  
  
On the night they’d agreed to get together (in her off-campus apartment, empty of roommates for the weekend), Cyndi found out the depths of his inexperience. He confessed it as matter-of-factly as he could: a fumbling grasp at a pair of breasts two years ago was as far as he’d gone. It was at a party, the result of Seven Minutes in Heaven. The girl had gamely removed her shirt and bra right away, without even being asked, and Will had tried his best, but he could feel her discomfort and eventual boredom as his lack of skill revealed itself. And the more he felt it, the more flustered he got, and the worse at providing her any pleasure. He tried to shut out her feelings, but he was too nervous, and he was stuck in a feedback loop he couldn’t shake. When someone banged on the door and announced that their time was up, Will wasn’t sure if the relief that flooded him was his or hers.  
  
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Cyndi assured him. “We’ll take it slow. And listen, if you want to slow down further or stop at any point, just say so. Okay?” She smiled encouragingly, and Will nodded. Cyndi leaned in and kissed him.  
  
Will did not, he thought, have romantic feelings for Cyndi. But he liked her. He was fairly comfortable around her, most of the time, and that was difficult to find. Boisterous extroverts tended to overwhelm him, although the assault of friendly words made it easier to keep things on the surface. Introverts like himself were easier to handle, but, undistracted, he would inevitably find himself learning too much about them. Cyndi seemed to fall somewhere in the middle: plain and direct with her thoughts and feelings, but not overwhelmingly noisy. Will was glad to have her as a friend.  
  
Particularly glad, at the moment. Cyndi told him very clearly (but kindly) what he could do to her; which of the things he tried felt good, which didn’t; what could feel even better if he changed the angle or the motion just a little. Will, who would have been utterly at sea otherwise, was extremely grateful for the instructions. He was almost reluctant when she told him to lie back because it was _his_ turn. Having been given leave to explore Cyndi’s body had already felt like his turn, especially with the soft buzz of her pleasure in his mind. But it was nice to have her in control, too, and everything she did felt wonderful.  
  
When he was close he chanced a glance into her eyes, and thought how beautiful she looked above him, riding him with gentle rolls of her hips. And he could feel real enjoyment and affection from her, which was the best he could have hoped for. He tried to convey his gratitude with a squeeze of his hands on her thighs, but realized this was woefully insufficient. His pleasure spiked and he gasped and shut his eyes, overwhelmed enough without another person in his head.  
  
A minute later, Cyndi had arranged herself on his chest with a contented hum. Will put his arms around her, finding the feeling of connection surprisingly unobtrusive.  
  
“That was great,” she said. Will smiled.  
  
“You don’t have to say that.”  
  
“No, I mean it! You’re a very considerate lover. You seemed to be thinking all the time about how I was feeling.” Will couldn’t deny _that_. “And at the end there, when you looked into my eyes – it was kind of intense!”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Oh, it wasn’t bad,” she assured him. “It just felt – I don’t know, like I could feel what you feeling, and you could feel what I was feeling...” She affected a California accent. “Wicked cosmic, man.” She laughed.  
  
Will tried to laugh with her, but he felt trepidation. He suddenly remembered a few incidents from the last year or so:  
  
He had seen a dog tied up in someone’s concrete yard, on a pitifully short and tight-looking leash, with no food or water in sight. It was whimpering pathetically. The fence was tall and padlocked shut, so Will found the nearest pay phone and called animal services. But he was still furious half an hour later. He accidentally locked eyes with a smiling man as they passed on the street, and a second later he heard the man snapping at his companion. (He had vaguely thought it was odd; the man had looked to be in a perfectly good mood. But it had slipped his mind, distracted as he was with worry about the dog.)  
  
In a rare moment of peace and happiness, he had smiled sympathetically at a crying child on the bus. Her tears had stopped immediately and she laughed. (Children were changeable; it had never occurred to him that there was any significance to the incident.)  
  
The one that stood out the most was when his father had died. He had been sobbing uncontrollably when his roommate, Mark, came home unexpectedly early after a class was cancelled. He had attempted to collect himself, but Mark sat down next to him and encouraged him to talk. Will tried, although it was difficult, and not only because he couldn’t stop crying. When he finally looked up, Mark was wiping his own eyes. (He’d assumed it was sympathy, or Mark was remembering a loss in his own past. Looking back, it should have been obvious. Mark wasn’t exactly the crying type. But he had brushed it off.)  
  
Whatever was wrong with him, it was changing. But it wasn’t supposed to _change_! Will had already been actively trying to deny the fact that it seemed to be getting stronger, harder to shut off – and now this. He sighed.  
  
“Hey.” Cyndi touched his face, turning it towards her. “Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Will said, careful to look just under her eyes. “I feel good. That was really amazing.”  
  
She smiled, and kissed him gently, and Will realized that despite the alarming realization, he wasn’t lying about how he felt. Cyndi pulled a blanket over them both and curled up on his chest again.  
  
“Me, too,” she said, sounding sleepy. “I feel very good.”  
  
And Will thought, _I knew that_ , and he knew he would have known it without her saying it, and without any abilities at all.


End file.
